


Wash away the golden sorrow

by stjarna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: All mistakes are my own, Daisy and Coulson barely mentioned, F/M, Jemma's POV, Season 5 spec, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 01:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: I really, really want a scene like this in canon, so I wrote it, just in case. That's all. Now give me the reunion already, please.





	Wash away the golden sorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AGL03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGL03/gifts), [Lilsciencequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/gifts).



> For @agl03 who gave me the idea for a crucial line in this fic (see end notes)
> 
> And for @lilsciencequeen, because it's her birthday tomorrow.

Jemma dunks the dirty rag back into the bowl with shimmering gold water, wringing it out and rubbing once again over face, noticing more of the golden makeup wash off. She squints, trying to see her own image in the barely reflective metal she uses as a makeshift mirror. Her head is still swimming, her brain trying to put the events of the past few days, the past few hours into order. Being sent to the future. Being enslaved. Silenced. Abby. Daisy. Destroyer of Worlds. Fitz. The Inhuman revolution. Their escape. The team reuniting. The resistance forming, growing.

The clothes Tess had given her feel unfamiliar, heavy on her body, and yet, compared to the pristine robe she’d been forced to wear, the dirty rags feel precious, comforting, clean. Jemma’s eyes glaze over, the wet rag resting on her lap, soaking her trousers.

“I don’t know!” she hears Fitz’s exclaim, and flinches at the unexpected noise.

It’s strange how similar she feels to when she returned from Maveth. Her senses overloaded, sounds louder than usual, startling. It was a relief when Fitz deactivated Kasius’ device. It was a relief to hear again, see properly again, and yet, with her mind racing, her emotions all over the place, Jemma can’t shake the unpleasant tingle of overwhelmed nerves and synapses.

“Well, what the fuck _do_ you know?” Daisy shouts, a hint of frustration in her tone.

Jemma hadn’t really followed their conversation. She knows Fitz is trying to bring the others up to speed. He’d told her what he could as they’d escaped. She knows there are still many things left unsaid. But there will be time for that later. Just them. Together. Whispered stories, whispered confessions, intertwined hands.

Right now, all she wants is to wash the gold off her face and feel like herself again (although she’s not quite sure what that even means anymore.)

“I know that I spent seventy-four years on ice in a bloody tin can to get back to you guys, because _you_ said we’re in this together,” Fitz shouts back at Daisy.

Jemma closes her eyes, the corners of her mouth ticking up briefly. She still can’t believe what he’d done this time to defy the odds and come back to her. Part of her wants to be mad at him. Freezing himself. Risking his life. Part of her is proud, relieved, wants to hold onto him and never let go.

“Really? Me telling you we’re in this together was your primary reason for playing Frozen in Space for close to a century?” Jemma can’t help but notice the friendly tease in Daisy’s reply.

There’s a pause before Fitz replies, causing Jemma to turn and look to where the others are standing. Fitz’s eyes catch hers, his lips twitching briefly, before he looks back at Daisy, a shy, apologetic smile playing on his lips. “Well, maybe not primary reason, but—”

“How about we continue this conversation later?” Coulson chimes in. “We need to get organized, and we could all need a few hours of rest. That’s probably all we’ll get.”

Daisy and Fitz nod, and Jemma’s eyes wander back to her hands and the wet cloth decorated with golden streaks. She inhales deeply, dunking it back into the water bowl and continuing her attempts to clean herself.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and warm, barely above a whisper.

Jemma looks up, a smile reflexively flashing across her face.

He kneels down next to her, reaching for the cloth in her hands, gently tugging on it. “May I help you?”

Jemma nods, silently, allowing him to pull the rag from her fingers.

He dips it into the shimmering water, wringing out the cloth, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. He lifts her chin, his fingers barely brushing against her skin, and turns her face. He wipes away the makeup, gently, his face so close to hers that Jemma feels his breath on her cheek. Jemma closes her eyes, drinking in the sensation of his tender touch, the way he carefully guides her head in the right position. She opens her eyes, when she notices his fingertips replacing the cloth, tracing her hairline. The gentle brush sends an excited shiver through her body. His eyes pierce into her soul and the soft smile playing on his lips reflexively causes Jemma to smile as well. His fingers curl around the back of her neck, his thumb gently gliding across her cheekbone. He blinks with tear-rimmed eyes.

“There she is,” he whispers, still smiling one-sidedly.

The gently spoken phrase, mirroring words she’d told him what feels like a century ago are enough to make Jemma cry and laugh at the same time. She reaches up, cupping his face, her breath coming fast, anxious and excited all at once.

For a moment they gaze at each other in silence, until their lips meet, drawn together by a force stronger than gravity.

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned this idea to @agl03 who told me she basically envisions the same scene. Bringing back "There she is" to mirror Jemma's "There he is" from 04x14 - The Man Behind the Shield, was agl's idea and it's perfect and canon needs to give that to us PLEEEAAASSSEEEE!!!!!!


End file.
